


Falling

by Forthenightisdarkandfullofterror



Series: Disaster Management [3]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Endeavour Morse Whump, Episode: s02e02 Nocturne, Father-Son Relationship, Human Disaster Endeavour Morse, Major Character Injury, Protective Fred Thursday, Thursdays done with morse's shit, alternative ending, sam thursday is adorable idc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24628306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forthenightisdarkandfullofterror/pseuds/Forthenightisdarkandfullofterror
Summary: Black lunged out, grabbing Morse who pushed into him, throwing Black off balance. One misplaced foot sends them both falling.(the alternative ending to Nocturne that literally no one asked for)
Series: Disaster Management [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757095
Comments: 23
Kudos: 83





	1. Good Grief

Morse was right, the house was a maze of back stair and hidden passages, and Morse was grateful that his over productive mind could remember most. He had to work fast, quietly slipping from the group that were at a standstill in fear of losing another child.

Morse was not going to let that happen. Especially not after Bunty had asked him to save her, not after she put her trust in him to keep her safe. He wasn’t going to add her name to the list of people he couldn’t save.

He quickly pictured Blacks options. It was unlikely he’d stay on the same floor with so many officers on his trail and he’d know the ground floor was probably covered too, so his only real option was up.

Morse sprinted up the back stairs in record time, miraculously without losing his footing going three steps a pace, using the banister to pull him faster.

He slipped through the cobwebs and broken wall panel and, as expected, Morse was right. He found Black at the top floor tightly holding Bunty to his chest with one arm and the other pointing a knife at Morse.

“Stand off” Black snarled, edging backwards. “You know I’ll do it.”

Morse wasn’t really concerned about the knife shakily pointed in his direction, more the large hole in the floor Morse had the misfortune of falling through the other day. The floorboards were too decrepit to take the weight of him and Bunty. He had to act fast before the two of them fell through.

“Bunty look at me, he’s not going to hurt you” He said, eyes flickering between her and the hole. He knew he couldn’t get closer, he needed Bunty to help.

“You sure about that?” He moved the knife close to her chest.

There. _The jaws that bite, the claws that catch._ “Beware of the Jabberwock. What comes next?” And god, he prayed she knew what he meant. She was petrified, but it was the only thing he could think of without Black striking out.

But she was bright, and fast thinking, quickly understanding Morse’s meaning and biting down on Blacks arm.

“Agh!” Black shouted, taken aback by the unexpected pain causing him to release Bunty from his grasp.

Morse quickly lunged in, pushing Bunty back before taking hold of Black by both arms, the two wrestling to overpower the other.

Morse regretted having not slept for almost 48 hours, feeling sluggish in his movements. Black easily pushed him back and threw out his knife which caught Morse across the cheek.

He hissed at the sharp sting but quickly regained his thoughts and hit Blacks wrist hard, causing the knife to fall carelessly against the floor.

The man took no time grabbing Morse who pushed into him in return.

It happened fast but Morse saw every moment like a stop show animation.

Blacks tight hold on him, the unevenness to his steps as he put his focus on fighting Morse. The fatal step back onto the rotten flooring.

The weight of the two men overwhelmed the damaged floor, collapsing beneath them.

They both plummeted down, falling onto the debris whilst more followed, scattering around them.

He was aware of his head hitting something hard, landing harshly on his front.

There was a muted scream from above him before he slipped from consciousness.

…

“Morse!” Thursday called out, in an attempt to let the lad know backup was coming whilst he no doubt made some valiant actions which Thursday would likely brand stupid.

It wasn’t until he heard a crash and a horrifically high-pitched scream from a petrified Bunty that he feared the worst.

Fred cursed, trying to climb up the damn stairs faster.

He reached the attic to find Bunty glued to the wall, wide eyes not leaving the, now bigger, hole in the floor.

Fred didn’t want to look. Putting two and two together of the absence of Morse and Black and the large amount of dust filling the air from the gap in the flooring. “You’re alright, Bunty. Come away from there.” He said with open hands, not wanting to risk getting closer.

Once she was safely by the staircase on solid ground, Thursday etched closer to the hole, careful of the precarious floorboards.

He couldn’t look. Couldn’t. It was too soon. Too soon after Coke Norris, too soon after London. The boy was too young for so many brushes with danger.

And now he lay, unmoving in a heap of limbs with Terrence Black, covered in the wreckage from the collapsed floor, face down. Dust completely covered their bodies like snowfall covering the ground on a cold winters day.

“Morse!” he heard himself shout desperately at his motionless DC. He cursed the darkness; he couldn’t make out if his chest were rising or falling.

He wasted no time sprinting back down the stairs, throwing the girl to Strange as he rounded to the corridor where the two men lay, Jakes and Church followed.

Thursday collapsed at Morse’s side, knee hitting some splintered wood, but he didn’t pay it any mind.

He was fearful to touch him, afraid to cause the lad more pain. Afraid if he touched him, he’d go somewhere Fred couldn’t follow.

He took a deep breath and reached out a shaking hand, pressing two fingers gently on Morse’s neck.

Relief flooded over him. A slow steady pulse, but for how long?

“Get an ambulance!” Thursday bellowed. Jakes ran off immediately.

“Morse? Can you hear me?” His voice was shaky but stern.

Thursday rose. He needed to get him off Black, who showed no signs of life. He leaned over to roll Morse onto his back using the lads shoulder.

“Not sure if you should be doing that, Thursday.” Church muttered.

He snapped his head back, glaring at the man. “What do you think I should do hm? Leave him like this? To hell with you.” Thursday spat. Damn his impertinence.

He gently rolled Morse onto his back. His face was dark and wet, caked in blood from a gash hidden by his matted curls. Fred cursed, unable to see how bad the cut was.

He looked over Morse the best he could, trying to see any other injuries. He couldn’t see any significant amounts of blood anywhere else, his suit obscured him from seeing fully, though. From the unnatural angle Morse’s right arm lay, it was definitely broken.

He saw Church check Black for a pulse but pulled away shaking his head. Good riddance.

There was another cut on the side of Morse’s face, but in Fred opinion seemed superficial which he was grateful for. The less life-threatening injuries the better. Part of Fred was still hopeful that it was just a slight blow to the head which knocked him out and the blood that covered him was just from a scratch.

Thursdays eyebrows were knitted together in concern for the lad, unable to tear his eyes away from the horror scene. “I’m here, Morse, you’re alright. I’ve got you.” He said weakly, hoping even in his unconscious state Morse could hear him and find some comfort in his words.

Jakes thundered down the corridor to them. “ETA five minutes... Is he?”

“He’s alive.” Thursday breathed out, cursing at his inability to see the extent of his injuries.

“Why isn’t there any bloody light up here?” 

No one responded, trying to escape Thursdays wrath.

His eyes returned to his DC. “Hold on, Morse. Not long now.” He murmured, putting his fingers back to his throat in fear he’d slip away. It made him sick how slow his heart was beating even with the vague reassurance that he was still with them.

Time felt like it was going in slow motion, it was the longest five minutes of his entire life before he heard the wailing sirens and the heavy footsteps running up the numerous staircases.

Thank god they had common sense and came with torches, although being able to see the lad clearly made Thursdays stomach churn.

The light reflected off the thick blood that obscured his face, making him almost unrecognisable. The parts of his skin that were visible looked almost grey against the dust. His chest rose and fell in short, shallow breaths.

“Step away please, Sir.” A woman said to him, quickly taking Thursdays place by Morse’s side.

Thursday stepped back to stand with Jakes who seemed stunned.

She carefully brushed Morse’s stained hair back. “Deep head wound. BP 80 over 40 and dropping.” One medic said whilst three others lifted Morse onto a stretcher.

“Possible internal injuries, work fast everyone.”

Thursday found himself chasing after them as they descended the stairs, careful not to jostle the unconscious detective.

“Do you want to come with us?” One paramedic asked Thursday as they reached the ambulance.

Thursday nodded, climbing in the back with two paramedics whilst the other two got in the front.

A face mask was quickly placed over Morse’s mouth and the other medic placed a white bandage over the head wound which quickly turned dark.

“Don’t worry sir, head wounds bleed a lot.” The female medic said, reading the concerned look in Thursdays eyes.

“Will he be alright?”

“I’m sorry, Sir we won’t be able to tell until he’s been fully assessed, right now we need to focus on the head wound.”

The male paramedic next to her leaned over her, shining a penlight into Morse’s dull eyes. “Pupils are dilated and unresponsive, likely from the head injury. From the looks of it, it might be a skull fracture.”

Thursday all of a sudden found it hard to breathe. Fractured skulls could be fatal. He’d come across enough soldiers during the war that hit their head and died from haemorrhaging. He couldn’t push the horrifying thought from his head. That couldn’t happen to Morse. It couldn’t.

It was 15 minutes before the ambulance stopped and the medics burst into action, moving Morse out of the ambulance and through the doors of the ER.

Thursday followed, not wanting to leave the boys side.

“Doctor!” the woman shouted, speeding ahead. “Male, early thirties, fell through a floor.”

Thursday cursed internally, only Morse could manage something like this. Twice.

“Get his clothes off, I need to assess the damage.”

The paramedics got to work cutting Morse’s suit off whilst the doctor looked at his head. “Looks like a linear fracture.” The tall doctor said, “Get him a bag of O neg and an IV of antibiotics.”

Morse was now stripped to his boxers, exposing his pale freckled skin which was littered in scratches and bruises. More alarming was the faint dark colour residing under the skin of his abdomen.

“Looks like a ruptured liver, get me a surgery room prepped, we need to stop the bleeding.”

The doctors snapped to work, careering Morse down endless corridors to an OR. Thursday found it hard to keep up, eyes fixed on the stretcher.

Then they disappeared through a set of double doors, leaving Thursday with one of the paramedics whilst he caught his breath.

“He’s in the best hands, Sir.” the woman says confidently.

Thursday nodded dully, leaning against the stark wall of the corridor.

“There’s a waiting room just this way, if you like.”

Thursday laughed. He’d been in the casualty waiting room enough times to find his way blindfolded. Dammit he was getting too old for this.

He was going to be having strong words with Morse about self-preservation once he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why I wrote this, but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think :))  
> chap 2 to follow shortlyyy


	2. Who you are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is very Thursday centric and low key went off on an internal dialogue so sorry about that lol but happy with the way this chapter turned out! :))

Fred Thursday was nothing if not a family man. It was what he clung to, what made him strong. And he treasured time with his family, any slither he could get, especially with the horridly long and unsociable work schedule of a detective. Especially with Sam adamant on leaving for the army in a few months. He hated to think about the times where he’ll come home to what will feel like a half empty house. A space at the dinner table, with only one letter a week to inform them he’s alive and well.

That’s why things as small as watching the football final with him was so important. That’s why his heart broke into small apologetic pieces as he called home telling Win he can’t leave the hospital before Morse wakes up, why he had to tell Sam he won’t make it home for the final. And it hurt. But no matter what, he knew where he was needed.

Sam Thursday was a good lad. Thoughtful and bright. Of course, he didn’t mind his dad cancelling on him, that Morse needed him and there’d be plenty of other opportunities to watch footy together. And it almost made it worse for Fred. He didn’t deserve such easy forgiveness. He always felt slightly absent from their lives since he worked so much, he could hardly measure up to how much time the kids spent spent with Win, and now here he was disappointing him again. Work. It was always work.

Morse came out of surgery just after 7am, a nurse had told him it was a success, just livers are ‘awfully complicated to fix’ hence why it took so long.

Another thirty minutes later he was taken to Morse’s bedside. Luckily not in the ICU like the last dreadful time, but still a private room. Something to do with the risk of infection from an open fracture.

He held his breath when he opened the door. They’d shaved a section of his head and put a neat line of staples in place. The cut was only about three inches long, but even that was enough to make Morse look so unlike Morse. His pale scalp the sun had never touched practically reflected the auburn curls that surrounded the bald patch. Morse was not going to be happy about that, that’s for sure.

The rest of him was tightly wrapped from view under the standard hospital bedding and gown, only his arms rested above the colourless sheets. His right arm was bound in a cast which Thursday had expected. The rest of him was littered in scratches and bruises, which made him look even paler than usual.

Luckily, there weren’t any horrible machines attached to him this time. He breathed naturally, unaided. The only things he had was an IV line and a heart monitor that beeped rhythmically in the background. He almost looked like he was sleeping, if it wasn’t for the metal keeping his skull in place.

And as always, he took his place in the chair by the head of the bed.

“Ah, Mr Thursday is it?” A male doctor extended his arm towards him.

Thursday quickly leaned over, shaking the doctor’s hand. “Ugh, yes.”

“I gather you aren’t family, but you are down as his emergency contact, so I’m allowed to discuss his status with you, if you’re happy with that.”

It was news to Fred that Morse had put him as his emergency contact, but it gave him a warm feeling, an unspoken trust between them. “Yes, yes go ahead doctor.”

“Endeavour’s surgery was a success. We fixed the liver better than we’d originally anticipated and stopped the internal bleeding, although he’ll need frequent surveillance to make there aren’t any unexpected complications. We also had to set 2 of his ribs that were crushed, but luckily there wasn’t any damage to his lungs.”

Thursday huffed. Morse, lucky. That was a first.

“The skull laceration should heal naturally, there was no bleeding to the brain which can often be the biggest threat to linear fractures. We put in the staples to help the healing process and reduce the possibility of scarring and infection. He’ll need them taking out in 14 days, if you can make sure he gets to his appointment alright.”

Thursday nodded. He’d make damn sure Morse was there. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Well, that’s all the surgery details. Once he’s released, he’ll need bed rest and someone to check his condition regularly, will that be yourself?”

“Yes. Yes, he’ll be with me whilst he recovers.” He didn’t need to check with Win, she wouldn’t want him anywhere else in the way he was.

“Well, he’ll be prescribed heavy pain killers which will make him drowsy so make sure he isn’t up for too long, bed rest is the best remedy for these kinds of injuries. He’ll also need a specific diet to help the liver mend fully. For the next two months he needs to avoid foods high in fat and sugars, try avoid lots of carbs and absolutely no alcohol.”

Thursday couldn’t help his mouth twitch. Morse was going to _love_ this.

“I think that’s everything, I’ll make sure I write it out for you, I understand it’s a lot to remember.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

“He’s a lucky man. If he hadn’t cushioned his fall, he’d likely have shared his fate as the other man.” He said lowly, before nodding and leaving the room.

Thursday scowled slightly. He will never think of a child killer positively, even if he had unintentionally saved Morse. He was still the reason he was here in the first place.

He leaned back into the chair.

No matter how many times he’d end up in hospital at the lads bedside, he’d never get used to it.

* * *

Thursday was lightly dosing through the day before he heard a quick knock on the open door.

He quickly snapped his eyes open, straightening his position. He froze as soon as he saw who it was.

“Jesus, he looks terrible.” Sam said, eyes drawn to the unnatural bald patch.

Fred frowned. “Sam? Why are you here?”

“Don’t sound too pleased to see me will you.” He joked before pulling out the contents of the carrier bag he held, placing the radio on Morse’s table. “Thought we could still catch the game together… if you aren’t too tired?”

Thursday couldn’t fathom a response, his heart welling from the thoughtful gesture. He quickly shrugged himself out of it, trying to form words. “No, no I’m fine. I’d love to listen to the game with you.”

“Here, sit yourself down there, Ill go find another chair.” He said, squeezing Sam’s shoulder before leaving the room.

He came back a few minutes later to find Sam fine tuning the radio. “Probably more reliable than the telly anyways.” Sam said optimistically.

Fred smiled. God bless that boy. He sat down next to him. “You never know, this might be what Morse needs to wake him up.” He joked, turning up the volume slightly.

Sam laughed. “Yeah he’ll wake up to tell us to turn the racket down.”

They sat, listening to the final together silently comfortable in each other’s company. Apart from the odd curse and shout, of course, when England missed yet another goal opportunity, even if they were winning.

It was the end of the game before Morse decided to stir. Fred and Sam, well mostly Sam, were jumping up and down in tight embrace cheering. England never won a bloody thing; it was only right to celebrate on the rare occasion.

“What’s that racket?” Morse’s crackly voice came from behind.

They both stopped, turning to Morse whose eyes were focused on the sound’s source.

Sam and Fred looked to each other and laughed, drawing Morse’s attention.

“Alright baldy?” Sam joked.

“Sam!” Fred quickly interjected, giving him a stern look.

“What?” he asked anxiously, raising his uncast arm to his head, feeling around. He froze when he felt the metal.

“Hey, none of that. Don’t go messing with them.” Thursday swatted his hand away. “They’ve just put some stiches in to help your head heal.” He didn’t want to say staples. Morse was squeamish at the best of times.

“What happened?”

Fred sat back down. “You took another swan dive through a floor again.” Thursday put simply, waiting for Morse to piece it together.

“Is Black?“

“Dead.” Thursday said in a low voice, cautious of Sam.

“And you almost were too, you daft idiot. What the hell were you thinking?!” Thursdays voice rose, slightly unintentionally.

“Erm – I’m gonna’ grab a drink.” Sam said quickly, hot footing it out of the room. Fred’s eyes didn’t leave Morse’s.

“I had to. He had Bunty.” He said defensively. He would not be lectured about stupidity if it meant a child was safe.

Thursday sighed. It was hard to argue against that. He’d likely have done the same if he was in Morse’s position that night, they hadn’t exactly had a lot of options. He slumped back into the chair. “I know.” His voice softer now. “I just wish it wasn’t always you in these situations.”

Morse bowed his head, wincing at the slight movement. “Sorry.” He muttered.

“It's alright, lad. I know your self-sacrificial tendencies aren’t meant to hurt anyone… well, other than yourself usually.” He held his eye contact. “Just promise me you’ll try and look after yourself better in future? God knows you’re going to give me a heart attack one day.” He flashed Morse a quick smile.

“I'll try.” 

“Good. Well, I’ll let you get some rest, I’ll be back in a few hours. They said they’ll probably release you in a few days if you behave.” He added, before Morse could ask.

“And don’t worry, your little stunts earned you some Win time once you get out.”

Instead of Morse’s usual protests though, he smiled tiredly, before letting his eyes close. He’d never admit it, but right now Win’s fussing felt exactly what he needed.

And maybe some dumplings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand thats it! Couldnt help adding Sam into the mix i feel he's often left out and I love him sooo   
> let me know what you guys think! I swear one day I'm going to follow through on one of these fics and do another chapter of Morse recovering at the Thursdays lol


End file.
